


To Atone

by Midgarvee (Vaneeka)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drabble, Gen, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaneeka/pseuds/Midgarvee
Summary: When the world wasn't in danger, Tifa never saw Vincent. Yet there he was, standing in her doorway.





	To Atone

**Author's Note:**

> A friend and I are doing this thing where we send each other a word prompt a day to get them creative juices flowing. Today's prompt made me think of Vincent.
> 
> Prompt: Atonement

The Seventh Heaven was always quiet after midnight. Edge wasn't a particularly active city late into the night; most of the established faculties were necessities. Grocery stores, a few small restaurants, a bank and a school. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment.

Tifa's bar regulars were gone for the night and the salvaged jukebox was silenced. Upstairs, Marlene and Denzel were tucked in bed, fast asleep.

She usually got late night customers before she locked up at 2:30, but they weren’t often from AVALANCHE. Cloud would help her clean up before heading home for ten or eleven - his morning deliveries dictated his schedule. Yuffie kept pretty busy in Wutai and Barrett, when he was home, would sleep early. Cid came around sometimes, when his flights would carry him nearby, but he never stayed particularly late. He wasn’t a fan of the noisier, younger crowd that kept the music loud and the drinks coming after work hours. The trip from Cosmo Canyon to Edge was a rough one for Nanaki; there weren’t many methods of transportation out his way. So, Tifa didn’t see him much either.

The Turks would stop by sometimes, after their rougher jobs left Reno too loud and Rude too quiet. Tifa knew their usual drinks well and would serve them civilly. She barely ever saw Reeve. She never saw Vincent.

Yet there he was, standing in her doorway.

“Sorry to intrude,” he greeted, his voice a low rumble.

“Don’t be silly,” Tifa said, moving from behind the bar. “You know you’re always welcome. Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Vincent replied. He moved silently, his cloak sitting heavily on his shoulders. The tattered ends danced alongside him as he walked, eerily animated for someone so stoic.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Tifa said, gesturing to a bar stool. Vincent sat there smoothly, the metal of his boots clicking against the floor. “Been doing okay?”

“The same,” he answered. “How about you?”

“The same,” Tifa repeated with a small smile, pouring him a cup of water. “Holding down the fort. Surviving. Kicking out nightly drunks.”

Vincent didn’t touch the glass, bowing his head. Conversations with him ground to a halt fairly frequently, but Tifa knew how to keep him talking. She was one of the few of her group who could. "Did you ever get around to picking up a phone?" she asked, polishing off one of her pilsner glasses. "I know you asked about it a couple months back."

"I didn't," he admitted. "Signing up for a plan proved...complicated. Considering my situation."

"Legally dead's a tough one," Tifa agreed. "Barret's going to upgrade to a family plan soon, though. Denzel's about old enough to get a phone and if he gets one, Marlene'll probably get one. We could add on an extra line for you, if you want."

"That's kind," Vincent said, gearing up to decline.

"I won't take no for an answer," the bartender said with a cheeky smile. "You're the only one I can't keep up with. It doesn't seem fair." Vincent kept his head bowed.

"Vincent?"

"You don't need to worry about me."

"You know I worry about everyone." Tifa leaned onto her elbows, propping her chin in her hand. She leveled the gunman with piercing eyes. "Especially if I can't get a hold of them. Just look at Cloud." When he didn't react, Tifa pushed further. "Something's eating you; I can tell. What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing," Vincent insisted. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Because I can't help you?"

"Because it isn't something you need to concern yourself with."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not - " Vincent trailed off. His shoulders sagged under his cloak. "Worthy."

"Sorry?" Tifa asked, confused. "Worthy of...?" Vincent gestured with his clawed hand at the entirety of the bar.

"This," he replied. "Your connection. Your friendship. I haven't earned it yet." When he looked up at Tifa, his eyes were the color of blazing fire. “What I’m responsible for. What I must atone for...it’ll be a long time yet before I’m able to allow myself to get closer.”

“You don’t have to earn any of this Vincent,” Tifa said quietly. “You’re our friend. We want you here.”

It could be difficult to keep eye contact with Vincent. His gaze was always intense, as if he could see through everybody around him. Luckily, the same could be said about Tifa and the gunman averted his eyes again.

“You and Cloud, I swear,” Tifa chided. She reached out and snagged Vincent’s hand before he could pull away. “Don’t deny yourself friendship and human connection,” she insisted. “There are other ways to atone. Ways that let you live your life.” Her smile was soft, comforting. “You won’t do anyone any good by locking yourself away. You’ll accomplish much more out here with everyone else.”

Something broke in Vincent’s eyes and he let out a quiet, shuddering breath. "Tifa - "

"Stay the night," Tifa insisted. "Cloud's due back in the morning. I know how well you two get along. If I can't help with your problem, maybe he can."

Vincent shifted on his stool, looking small and uncomfortable. Behind his collar, his mouth worked to try to get out a protest. Instead, he muttered, "Thank you."

Tifa showed him up to the guest room.

By the time Cloud returned, Vincent was gone.


End file.
